1. Gone are the days when my heart was young and gay,

2. Why do I weep when my heart should feel no pain?

3. Where are the hearts once so happy and so free?

1. gone are my friends from the cotton fields away.

2. Why do I sigh that my friends come not again?

3. The children so dear that I held upon my knee?

1. Gone from the earth to a better land I know,

2. Grieving for forms now departed long ago,

3. Gone to the shore where my soul has long`d to go.

I hear their gentle voices calling, "Old Black Joe!"

I`m coming, I`m coming, for my head is bending low,

I hear their gentle voices calling, "Old Black Joe!"